The fish and the fool

part of my job has me spending my precious weekends going for various parties and writing unintelligent articles about them..then again, what ever pays the bills. Five months into the job, and I'm fed up of the continuous hey, hellos that follow around. Worse i find are the questions like, "Are you working tonight as well?" and the annoying, "Why don't i see a drink in your hand?" Tired of the monotony of this i went MIA. A month it worked. When i re-entered the scene, i couldn't recognise half the tracks being played. Great i thought. Now my reentry came in the form of the newly opened Shiro's Poison. A sister club of the one in Mumbai, the troupe of us from work went for the very suave opening. The place was impressive, with its humongous statues centering the circular dance area, the beach front deck and the alfresco dining area. This would be one for the elite. A definite. While Malini Ramani and Tarun Tahiliani talked about the Lakme Fashion Week i too mingled, but not with the likes of Gautam Singhania who also was there, in an atrociously ugly sleeveless shirt and cowboy hat. while chatting up the boys we made a dash for the bar, and took advantage of what would probably be the only time we could get to drink at this place. My sabbatical from the night scene had clearly taken it's toll on my drinking capacity. One drink down and i could already seen stars — but that could also be cos they were all invited for the shindig. Two hours into the party i made contact with the devil himself, offering me his juicy sin filled fruit. OK, so it was a waiter with a tray of sushi. "Sushi" i exclaimed, with childish glee, and ended up eating way too many pieces. .......................FAST FORWARD...........................

Next Day: The sun is burning down into my neck and i can feel all that raw fish swimming around my stomach. Is this what a hangover feels like. But the symptoms are completely wrong. No dizziness, no headaches, nothing. So blame it on the sun, and buy my self a bottle of water. Half a litre later, i find my self clutching the side of a wall, throwing up water and more water. Having it out of my system, (literally) i get into Loreco, my colleague's Mahindra and we set of for work. All is not good, in tummy land and as the jeep slows into the parking lot of the office, i rush out and puke another litre of water. Don't know where that came from though, since i only drank half a litre. Take two steps another litre escapes me. Walk up to my floor, rush to the wash room, and another few ml. Somethings wrong. How could i be retaining, (well not for long) so much water when i am not even drinking any? Settling into my seat i begin my round of editing, and writing. *200ml more-out* Nishi the doll that she is, offers to take me to the market for my round of pears. I'm addicted to that fruit.. every bite i take, brings that Aamsutra ad to mind. by the time we reach the office, i have already finished one pear, another fifteen mins later i have also unmouthed that pear. Pears are not that cheap, and I'm furious that I'm wasting so much.

Looking back on last night, i know who to blame. Those damn roles of rice and fish. food poisoning, or maybe I'm just not one for raw stuff. now I'm sitting at my desk, waiting for a lime juice as i make my will. i have already thrown up 400grams of the half kilo of fruit i bought. With no reason to live i look back at life and regret. : i should have opted for the tooth-picked chicken.

Moral of the story: well done::never rare.